Winner Makes the First Move
by Kiba Sniper
Summary: Lucifer loses a battle to 410, prompting Beatrice to give the Chiester Corps better roles in the third game in comparison to the Seven Sisters of Purgatory. As she struggles with her loss, 410 slips her something interesting. 410/Lucifer.


Femslash February 2020 Day 13: Combat.

Winner Makes the First Move

Even in her stake form, Lucifer couldn't pierce Chiester 410. No matter how swiftly she weaved through the air, her speed blinding to the naked eye, 410 managed to dodge her strikes. 410 hopped and ducked milliseconds before Lucifer could taste her rich blood and launched her golden arrows, forcing her to retreat and re-launch her offensive. It was as if she was reading Lucifer's mind, knowing her attack plans and toying with the leader of the Stakes of Purgatory with a permanent sneer stretched into her cheek.

Lucifer panted as she resumed her form. She arched her arm and summoned her azure blade. She dug in her heels on the checkerboard tiled floor and narrowed her eyes at her opponent, the desire to cleave her from navel to chops lighting a fire in her belly.

But her arms ached as she threw herself forward. Her sleeves looked ready to fall off, the fabric torn and raggedy. Cuts lined her fair skin, and fresh blood bubbled in her wounds. Grinding down on her molars, she ignored the pain flaring in her limbs and thrust her blade at 410's chin, her howl filling and recoiling in the room.

Smirking, 410 lunged to the side, and Lucifer's blade gouged through the wall. The portraits of Lady Beatrice shook from the impact, threatening to come undone and topple on Lucifer. Grimacing, Lucifer drew her arm back, her blade dissipating, but she had no time to move as 410's fist careened into her jaw, knocking her back, pain bursting in her face, her teeth feeling as if their roots had been loosened.

"Nyeh heh! Got'cha," 410 chirped, Lucifer's face hitting the ground first.

Laughter echoed around them. The other Stakes of Purgatory were huddled around their master, who watched the battle with half-lidded interest. Their lips twisted upwards in smirks. Glancing at one another, they guffawed shamelessly at their oldest sister's weakness, pointing like schoolyard bullies.

Tears brimmed Lucifer's eyes as a deep sigh reached her ears. Her stomach squeezed, flipping and twisting when she tried getting to her knees. Her body throbbed on the cold, hard floor, and she wished she could have crawled underneath a carpet to rot, the shadow of her mistress crossing over her.

"410, you've earned my praise," Beatrice said, clapping slowly. "You outmatched and outclassed Lucifer in every regard. Agility, power, style, it was all in your favor."

"Thank you kindly, Beatrice-sama! It was easy-peasy beating her," 410 chirped, curtseying.

Beatrice arched an eyebrow. "'Easy-peasy.' Defeating my furniture was 'easy-peasy,'" she said slowly. She clicked her tongue and leered down at Lucifer. Her heels clacked and pierced through the floor, making Lucifer flinch as she crouched before her. Wiggling her fingers, she snatched a fistful of Lucifer's hair and dragged her to her knees, her brow creasing and lines appearing around her mouth as she snarled, "Lucifeeer, shouldn't the leader of the Seven Sisters of Purgatory be the strongest? Shouldn't you have trained harder to prepare yourself for this fight or are you just the loser of the bunch? The oldest sister and also the weakest sister! The most pathetic sister!"

Beatrice's voice grew shrill as she roared, Lucifer wincing with each insult. She dug her fingers into her palms, listening to her bloody droplets hit the floor. She yelped as Beatrice ripped her hand back, pulling out a few tresses, and the cackling of her sisters earned her no favors.

"You scum, I thought you would have performed better," Beatrice hissed, dropping the hairs on to Lucifer.

"F-forgive me, Beatrice-sama. I was careless, I was, um, I mean, not careless-" Lucifer choked on her words and bowed her head. She clasped her hands and squeezed, her knuckles cracking, and she appeared like a woman coming to confess her sins to an unforgiving pastor.

"The third game is coming up," she announced, turning her back on Lucifer and stepping over to 410. "I can trust the Chiester Corps to assist me with this game, correct? You'll have much more work to do."

Giggling, 410 saluted her. "Right-o, Beatrice-sama! Me and 45 are way better than those cheap stakes."

Beatrice smirked back at the Seven Stakes, their indignation palpable. One glare from her shut down their protests before they could start. She summoned her pipe and took a long drag, closing her eyes and relishing in the smoky taste before exhaling, gray smog ghosting past her lips.

Lucifer felt the sharp glower of her sisters upon her. She knew how important this battle was for all of them. Beatrice had told them she was bringing in high class furniture for the third game, and Lucifer's pride refused to stand aside. For the sake of her sisters' roles in the game, she had elected herself as their tribute to battle a member of the Chiester Corps for better parts, but 410 had utterly destroyed and humiliated her, her arrogance having taken a beating worse than her bleeding arms.

She felt 410's eyes on her and shivered. Beatrice didn't cast her a single glance as she stomped back to the other sisters, informing them of the parts they would play. As Leviathan and Belphegor cheered and the others moped, she willed herself to glare at 410, her scarlet eyes in slits while 410's gaze widened.

"That was fun, nyeh," 410 said, squatting next to her. She held out a hand and toothily grinned. "We should play again after the game."

Smacking her hand away, Lucifer sputtered, "You-you call that 'play?' I was trying to kill you, and I would have if-"

Waving dismissively, 410 cocked her head and interjected, "Nyeh, don't sweat the small stuff. We'll all get parts in the end, but hey, when you get yourself fixed up, you should hit me up." She pushed off her knees, and a business card slipped out of her hand, landing in front of her bewildered opponent. Winking, 410 lowered her voice and added, "Hit me up when this is all over, nyeh. I'll show you a good time."

Lucifer blinked, her cheeks roasting with heat. She sat up and pinched the card's edge. Squinting her eyes as 410 flocked over to Beatrice when she called her, Lucifer scanned the bold lettering, and her entire body tensed, her brain refusing to accept what was written on it.

"Her phone number?" she mumbled, brow furrowing. Shaking her head, she slipped the card into her breast pocket and pursed her lips. Gazing at the wounds along her arms, she pondered the implications and itched her neck with a nail-bitten finger.

As she struggled to her feet, a light bulb illuminated above her. She swallowed back her yelp and fanned herself, realization hitting her on the crown of her head. Squaring her shoulders and jaw, Lucifer shook her head and snapped at herself to give 410 a call for only a rematch and that a date between furniture was impossible.

Being that they were furniture, they were forbidden to fall in love. And it wasn't like she would have ever considered 410 a suitable partner. She had her standards, and an equally arrogant soldier was not someone she wanted to mingle with even if her heart pounded a little faster at the idea of 410 wreathing her arms around her.

But when 410 danced with her during the third game's celebratory ending and laughed with her as equals, Lucifer entertained the idea of a date with 410.


End file.
